


piano guy

by driftingskies237



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boyfriends, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Music, Piano, Piano player TJ, Theatre, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driftingskies237/pseuds/driftingskies237
Summary: Cyrus sucks at piano, there's no doubt about it. But when he's forced into a situation where he needs to learn to play, he gets help from the most unlikely of people.





	piano guy

**Author's Note:**

> so I originally planned to make this like 4,000 words, but I guess I went a bit overboard lol! Anyway, I am so proud of what I wrote, and I really hope you all enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it!! :) thank you all for your continued support, as well! I couldn't do it without you <3 
> 
> also this isn't edited so excuse the mistakes! :)

Cyrus feels like a baby taking their first steps. _Hesitant, wobbly, clumsy_. The only difference between him and a baby learning to walk is that, eventually, a baby will successfully balance on their own. They’ll grow up, not having to think twice about walking from one room to another. Cyrus, on the other hand, is confident he’ll never successfully learn to play the piano. It will never come naturally to him. In fact, even walking doesn’t seem to come naturally to him at this point. Somehow, he still manages to stub his toe a few times a day, as well as trip over about five objects. But at least he can get from one place to another. With piano, however, Cyrus would be amazed if he could get halfway through a song without messing up, let alone a full song.

At first, Cyrus seems to be In the Zone with his playing that day. He’s been practicing as much as he can, but he’s never made it this far without messing up terribly. Of course, he jinxes himself. The further he gets along in the song, the more his hands shake and his vison blurs. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up. _Don’t—_

He messes up, just like he always does. It’s not a surprise, but disappointment bubbles in his gut. No matter how hard he tries, with constant practicing and studying theory, piano seems to be a task he can never get right. It’s a strange feeling for Cyrus to not be at least mediocre at something. For most of his life, he’s prided himself on being good at pretty much every subject. Now, he feels like a failure. He should be able to do this. Almost everyone nowadays can play an instrument, except him apparently.

“Ah! Dang it,” he mutters, fingers fumbling.

Once he makes a mistake, he can’t seem to get back on track. It’s a slippery slope leading nowhere but to the bottom of the cliff. He tears his hands away, reaching up to push stray pieces of hair away from his eyes.

“I suck at this,” Cyrus comments, head hung low.

His piano teacher, Ms. Kippen, places a firm yet comforting hand against his shoulder.

“Learning piano takes time, Cyrus. You’ll get it. I know you will,” she responds, sending him a confident smile. “Want to start from the top?”

Although Cyrus appreciates the sentiment, he has a feeling she’s just being nice. He knows how much of a disaster he is with piano, and he knows that in the past six weeks, he’s hardly made any progress. This is the second song he’s learned, and he still can’t play most of it. Musical notes and symbols are like a foreign language to Cyrus, and playing the notes correctly is like being able to speak fluently.

It was his mother’s idea to enroll him in piano lessons in the first plays, wanting Cyrus to expand his horizons. At first, Cyrus was all for the idea. He figured being able to play an instrument would help him in the long run, especially while he pursues his love of playwriting and theatre. Maybe the teachers would finally let him direct a musical.

This is only Cyrus’s sixth lesson, but he can barely remember the notes let alone how to put them together. Being in high school, Cyrus feels especially insecure about his inability to play the most basic notes and chords. The little kid who has lessons before him can out play Cyrus any day with ease. Sometimes, when Cyrus gets there early, he hears the prodigy playing and gapes at the pure talent. They sound like a professional pianist. After teaching such an amazing student, Ms. Kippen has to struggle through a lesson with Cyrus. He feels bad for her.

For the remainder of the lesson that day, Cyrus manages to screw things up at few more times before Ms. Kippen finally sends him home.

“Doing great, Cyrus. Just keep working on nailing those chords,” she encourages.

Ms. Kippen reminds Cyrus a lot of Bex, with a spunky attitude, a sense of humor, and a caring nature. Although Cyrus has never met them, he knows Ms. Kippen has children. He sees their stuff scattered around the house all the time. He pictures her as one of those cool moms who are best friends with their children. Not to mention, based on her experiences with Cyrus, she has an extreme amount of patience.

As per usual, Cyrus retreats from his piano lesson and immediately heads for The Spoon. Andi, Buffy, and Jonah wait up for him there so they can work on homework. In reality, most of the time spent there consists of friendly bantering and storytelling without actually getting any work done. This is why Cyrus never understands how people can join study groups with friends and actually be productive.

“Cyrus!” Jonah greets, holding out his hand for a friendly fist bump.

“Are you a professional piano player yet?” Buffy asks, knowing the struggles he’s faced thus far in piano.

He flops down on the bench beside her with a huff. Andi pushes over a fresh, hot basket of baby taters. Cyrus’s mouth waters at the sight, and he dives in with no hesitation. Once again, he’s reminded of what great friends he has.

Andi looks at him with understanding. “Stress eating?”

Between stuffing food at his face, Cyrus nods. Recently, piano lessons have been even more stressful than high school, even though he’s taking extra credits after getting special permission from the teachers. Stress eating baby taters has become a common occurrence for him after piano lessons, which is the reason he suggested The Spoon as a meet up place instead of somewhere more practical such as a library.

“Why don’t you just quit?” Buffy questions.

She reaches to steal one of his baby taters, but Cyrus deftly smacks her hand away.

“I can’t just quit! Quitting is equivalent to failing, and I haven’t failed anything! Not even P.E.!”

“But you don’t like it, Cyrus. Just think of it as not pursuing it further because you’re not interested in it.”

“You know me well enough by now to understand that I can’t just drop something and forget about it without at least somewhat succeeding! Plus, my mom played piano, and I can tell she really wants me to at least try for a bit. Also, I might have told a few people I can play piano now…”

Andi raises an eyebrow. “Who did you tell?”

“Um…” Cyrus stammers. “I may have told some of the people in theatre, maybe the teacher?”

“Cyrus, we love you, but we all know you suck at piano,” Buffy drawls.

“I know, I know! But they’re looking for a director for the next musical, and one of the requirements is to have a basic understanding of musical phrases. It’s not like she’s going to make me play in front of everyone to prove myself. I just want to be a director, not a performer. Besides, in my defense, I thought I would have mastered piano by now.”

Jonah sends him a sympathetic smile. “I can always try helping you again, Cy-Guy.”

Cyrus winces as he thinks of what happened the last time Jonah tried to teach him piano. Let’s just say, it ended in a broken keyboard and a jammed finger. In other words, Cyrus is hopeless. He sighs, supporting his head with one hand.

Back slumped in defeat, Cyrus decides, “No, it’s ok. I’ll just need to learn to accept my inevitable failure. Next week, I’ll tell Ms. Kippen that I want to stop lessons. I’m tired of stressing over this.”

“Good for you,” Buffy agrees. “This is for the best, Cyrus. We can’t all be good at everything.”

Andi nods, patting Cyrus’s back. “Buffy’s right. I still suck at math no matter how hard I try. Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Yeah,” Cyrus sighs. “I know. Can we at least get another basket of baby taters to drown my sorrows in?”

Buffy rolls her eyes. “Sure, but you’re paying this time.”

Talking with his friends always makes Cyrus feel better. Today especially, he feels as if he has a new outlook on the whole situation. This will be simple. He’ll go into piano lessons next week and just tell Ms. Kippen the truth. He’ll apologize, thank her, and give her the last check he owes her. Then, that’s it. He’ll be free of piano lessons forever. After that, he can focus on things like his new screenplay he’s planning on writing. It will all end up okay.

* * *

“Did you hear?” One of the other students, Jason, in theatre club asks him.

Cyrus pauses his work on cleaning up the stage. “Hear what?”

Jason doesn’t respond. He simply grins mysteriously before walking back to finish his own job with the lighting. Frowning, Cyrus contemplates what Jason could possibly be talking about. The new play auditions weren’t until a few days from now, so that wouldn’t be the case. No one seems to be missing or new to the group. In other words, Cyrus is stumped by Jason’s hint. He merely shrugs to himself, thinking Jason was probably just messing with him. It’s not until near the end of theatre club that he figures out what exactly Jason was talking about.

“Gather around, everyone!” The teacher, Mrs. Alder, calls out.

Everyone gathers in a half circle on the stage around her. Beside him, Jason smirks.

“I have an exciting announcement to make,” Mrs. Alder says once all the students are gathered. “As you know, I like to pick students to direct every once in a while, and for this play, I decided that our director will be Cyrus Goodman!”

The group starts clapping for him. Cyrus blushes, unable to wipe the smile off his face. He did it! He’s going to be directing his first official play. He can’t wait to tell his friends. Suddenly, he realizes just how much he’ll have to do to direct the play. He’ll have to be there for auditions, for sure. He’ll need to make sure that everything runs smoothly, get everyone up to the task, direct them to what they need to do—

“Also, since we just found out that Cyrus plays the piano, I wanted to offer him the position to join in with the band to play for a few songs!”

Suddenly, Cyrus’s face drops, and his elated mood plummets. Oh no. He needs to try and fix this situation. Quickly he steps forward, gaining the attention of everyone.

“Mrs. Alder,” Cyrus swallows, “I think being director will put enough on my plate as it is.”

“Nonsense, Cyrus. I have complete confidence in you. Besides, this will be good for you! Getting out of your comfort zone a bit. You’ll do great.”

Cyrus laughs nervously. “Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

After they are dismissed, the other students come up to congratulate him. Normally, Cyrus would respond with even more enthusiasm, but today he can barely muster out a mumbled thank you. He’s still attempting to process what just happened, as well as come up with some sort of solution. He could pretend he’s sick…for a month. He could say he changed his mind about directing, but no one would ever believe that because of how often he talks about it being his dream.

Sighing, Cyrus makes his way out of school for the day. Already, he knows that Buffy will say “I told you so” the instant she hears what happened. He kind of deserves it, though. After all, he did boast that his piano skills were much better than they seemed. At least he knows the notes on the piano, but aside from that, he can’t accomplish much else.

He figures there’s really only one option at this point, which is to continue taking lessons from Ms. Kippen and hope that he gets good enough to play sheet music that will be handed out to them soon for the musical. He could ask his mother to help him learn, too, although she’s more of an analyzer than a teacher. Also, she doesn’t have much time on her hands to help Cyrus out with piano lessons.

The minute Cyrus arrives home, he goes up to his room and flops face first on the bed, not even bothering to kick his sneakers off. He nuzzles his face into his pillow, pulling his legs up to his chest. If only he could remain in bed until this all disappeared.

After his impromptu destress nap (which didn’t really help destress him at all, it just helped delay the impending problem), Cyrus forces himself downstairs to the piano. He collapses onto the bench and shuffles through his music until that same stupid song is in place. He starts playing, and messes up on the third note. Cursing, he restarts.

About twenty minutes later, he gives up for the day, too frustrated to continue playing. At this point, he’d take college level algebra over learning these ridiculous notes. It’s odd, too, because Cyrus has always loved listening to music. Maybe he’s never been a passionate, angsty teen song writer like Jonah, but he appreciates musical artists. After all, songs are poetry, and Cyrus loves poetry. He decidedly _does not_ love piano.

That night, Cyrus can’t fall asleep. Worrying thoughts plague him constantly. He runs through scenario after scenario of what the potential fallout could be. Of course, the more fatigued he feels, the more outlandish his thoughts become. What if they kick him out of the theatre program? What if he gets ‘liar’ put on his permanent record? What if this jeopardizes potential colleges? He flips around restlessly, sweating through his clothes. No matter how hard he attempts to relax, the pounding of his heart seems to echo across the silent, dark room.

At some point, he does manage to fall into a fitful, restless sleep. Waking up to his alarm clock the next morning is like a smack in the face. Despite his exhaustion from the constant state of worry he’s been in, Cyrus continues to worry the moment he wakes up. It’s just in his nature. At least this morning he’s not being completely unrealistic, not like last night.

When he shows up to school, Buffy and Jonah notice that something’s up with him. Both a great and terrible thing about having close friends is that they can always tell when something is going on, whether it be good or bad.

“Your eye bags have bags,” Buffy frowns. “What’s going on with you?”

“I always look like this?” Cyrus attempts to no avail.

“You? The one who likes to go to bed at nine o’clock and always advocates that we need more than eight hours of sleep?” Jonah asks.

“Fair point. Okay, fine, I’ll tell you because I want to complain about it.”

“This has something to do with piano, doesn’t it?” Buffy figures out.

“Yeah, it does. First, though, you’re looking at the new director of the new theatre club play.”

“Cyrus!” Jonah beams. “Congrats.”

He brings him in for a half hug, patting his back; however, after spotting Cyrus’s lack of excitement about the news, he pulls back with a confused look. Sighing, Cyrus figures this is his cue to explain.

“Well, turns out, since I told my theatre teacher that I can play piano…she wants me to preform with the band for a few songs.”

Buffy gapes. “You told her no, right?!” 

“Well…”

The bell rings, interrupting their conversation. Buffy groans in frustration, picking up Cyrus’s stack of books for him and closing his locker with force.

“We will be talking about this later,” Buffy declares.

Cyrus nods, taking the pile from her. “Trust me, I know.”

Heading in the opposite direction, he waves goodbye to Jonah and Buffy. Now, he has to survive through class until they get to lunch. Of course, the instant he steps inside his first period classroom, he knows that there’s no way he’ll be able to keep focus the entire time. Instead, he contemplates various plans in his head. Some of them are more plausible than others to enact, but none of them he can think of will truly work.

Chewing on his pencil, Cyrus stares off into space as his mind races. While formulas and equations get pushed to the back, musical phrases get pulled upfront. He doodles all the notes he can remember on the bars instead of working on perfecting his equation simplifying. Normally, he’s one to always pay rapt attention in class, but this feels more important than math for today. After all, he won’t need to know how to graph a parabola for writing a screenplay. Maybe he wishes that he had to graph a parabola instead of playing the piano, though.

By the time lunch comes around, Cyrus has exhausted all possible options. He even texted Andi in a panic during class (Yes, during class, which he’s never done before! He risked it just for this distressing situation) to ask if anyone would be willing to help him out. Unfortunately, Andi texted back saying she isn’t friends with anyone who can play the piano well enough to teach him, followed by a frowny face.

Marty, Buffy, and Jonah all arrive at the lunch table after Cyrus. Too deep in thought to worry about eating, he sits there sketching in his notebook, hoping an idea will come to him. He’s just going to have to tell everyone the truth. He’ll quit piano like he planned, but sooner. Maybe he’ll go over today after school, quick and painless. Then, tomorrow, he’ll face the task of telling his theatre teacher.

“Eat,” Buffy instructs, sliding over a muffin.

Cyrus nibbles on the edges. Even the delicious flavor of chocolate chocolate chip can’t force him to get out of his slump.

“What’s going on?” Marty asks, not having been debriefed by Buffy yet.

“I lied about being able to play piano,” Cyrus groans. “And now I’m paying for it.”

“Dude, I thought you were taking lessons?”

Cyrus drops his head on the table. Marty appears more confused than ever. Meanwhile, Buffy leans over to pat his back.

“Come up with anything?” she asks.

Cyrus lifts his head up blearily, getting a head rush as he returns to a normal sitting position. He sighs, taking a bigger bite out of his muffin. Suddenly, his appetite his back in full force.

He answers, “No. I think I’m going to talk to Ms. Kippen today after school, though, and tell her I want to stop lessons. I don’t want to be worrying about it for the rest of the week.”

“But what about the play?” Jonah pipes up.

Shrugging, Cyrus says, “I have to tell her the truth. Hopefully she doesn’t hate me too much.”

“She won’t hate you, Cyrus,” Buffy promises. “She might be disappointed, but it was just a mistake.”

“Disappointment is always worse than anger! Have you never seen any drama movies?!”

The rest of the lunch period, his friends attempt to distract him best they can. Cyrus is thankful for their efforts, and even manages to joke around a forget a little bit of everything going on. Still, though, the guilt about lying is something that doesn’t just disappear. Cyrus knows that technically; it wasn’t a lie. He does know how to play a few notes of piano. But also, he doesn’t believe in technicalities. When he told Mrs. Alder that he could play piano, he knew full well that that implies he can play more than a few basic notes. He just wanted to put himself ahead, for once, finally get his chance to shine. Now, he just feels like a con artist.

So, right after the bell rings, signaling the end of school, Cyrus trudges to the Kippen household. He doesn’t bother telling his mother that he’s quitting piano. He’ll have to deal with the inevitable repercussions later, which will mostly include psychoanalyzing his thought processes behind his decision making, of course. For now, though, he needs to finally reject the notion that he’ll ever be decent at piano. This is the first step in being truthful, not only with others, but also with himself.

He approaches the front door, arriving faster than he thought he would. Cyrus supposes that his multitude of thoughts help pass the time. Raising a knuckle up, he knocks against the wood three times. It takes a few seconds until he hears heavy falling footsteps rush toward the door. They don’t sound familiar, but Cyrus doesn’t have a chance to think about it before the front door swings open wide. Standing there is a gorgeous, unfamiliar boy.

“Can I help you?” He asks.

His voice matches his hair; both are like honey: _smooth, sweet, and golden_. Green eyes contrast starkly with his pale skin tone and light hair color, standing out immediately. He stands tall above Cyrus, even if there was no height difference between the patio and the doorway inside. He looks like the typical jock type, wearing a sweatshirt with completely mismatched basketball shorts and sandals.

“Uh…” Cyrus gapes, not expecting to be met with anyone else, let alone someone this beautiful.

Suddenly, Ms. Kippen pops her head out the door. “Oh, Cyrus! What a great surprise, come on in!”

Cyrus smiles nervously, making his way past TJ who is still holding the door open. As he squeezes past the other boy, Cyrus just barely feels their shoulders brush. It sends electrifying chills down his spine.

“I don’t think you two have ever met!” Ms. Kippen realizes. “Cyrus, this is my son TJ. TJ, this is Cyrus. He’s one of my piano students.”

Bashfully, Cyrus sneaks a peek at TJ through his eyelashes. Surprisingly, he finds TJ staring right back at him with those piercing green eyes. Swallowing, Cyrus turns his attention back to Ms. Kippen.

“Sorry for dropping in so unexpectedly, I just needed to talk to you about something,” Cyrus explains.

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here, because I wanted to discuss something with you, as well.”

Maybe this won’t bad as he thought. Maybe she’ll kick him out before he even has to quit in the first place.

She leads Cyrus over to her living room, motioning for him to sit. He does so, hands folded awkwardly on his lap, legs scrunched together to try and make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible. TJ, meanwhile, heads off into the kitchen somewhere. At least Cyrus won’t have to deal with making a fool of himself in front of the other boy.

“Do you mind if I go first, Cyrus?” she questions.

“No, not at all. Go ahead.”

She takes a spot in a chair across from him.

“I have some news for you that you may not like…”

_This is it._

“…but I have no other option.”

Cyrus watches her with rapt attention. Unconsciously, he leans in more, waiting for her to just say it already. Never before has someone been so eager to get kicked out.

“I have to be gone for a conference next week during our lesson. I know you already prepaid up until then, so I can’t believe that I’m going to miss it.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine!” Cyrus promises. “And actually—”

“Wait, before you say anything, don’t worry, because you can still come for your lesson without me! Luckily, TJ is a piano genius, and he can teach you next week. I know it’s not ideal, but I promise I’ll be back, and TJ really is a great kid.”

_No, no, no_. This wasn’t part of the plan! She was supposed to say goodbye to him, sending him off into the world with a heavy heart. But now, he’ll feel even more guilty if he quits because she somehow managed to rope her son, who can apparently play piano, into teaching him. Not only will he embarrass himself in front of the theatre group, but now he’s going to embarrass himself in front of a cute boy who’s probably just another jock forced into diversifying his skills by his parents.

“Are you sure? It’s really not a big deal,” Cyrus assures her.

“Oh yes! TJ already agreed. Again, though, I’m so sorry about that! Anyway, what was it you came to tell me?”

Cyrus opens his mouth to speak, but words fail to flow from his mouth. He stammers, trying to come up with something off the top of his head. Being put on the spot makes Cyrus tense up and his mind go blank. Ms. Kippen gives him a strange look, but nevertheless waits patiently for him to speak. Eyes wandering across the living room, Cyrus tries to think of something, _anything,_ to say.

“I just wanted to bring you over some muffins!” Cyrus blurts out.

His voice carries throughout the house, loud enough that TJ can surely hear it from wherever he’s at. Ms. Kippen tilts her head in confusion. Meanwhile, Cyrus internally berates himself. Muffins, seriously? Out of everything he could have said, every excuse he could have come up with, his brain decided on muffins. He could have easily said he had question about piano theory and needed help with it. Something like that would have been much more believable.

“Muffins?” she asks inquisitively. “I didn’t see you come in with muffins.”

“Oh, yeah, well…when I got here, I realized I completely forgot them!” he stammers.

Ms. Kippen still appears lost, but she simply purses her lips into a smile and nods.

“No worries, Cyrus. Making muffins was really thoughtful, though.”

Cyrus swallows heavily. “Oh, yeah…uh, no problem? Anyway, I better get going. Places to see, people to go—I mean, lots of homework. I’m sure you know how it is.”

“Of course. I’ll see you out.”

As if things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, Cyrus manages to trip over the leg of the coffee table as he stands. Luckily, he manages to come out of it with no harm done, except to his self-esteem. As he dusts himself off, he also realizes that TJ saw at least part of that, which makes Cyrus blush even deeper.

Finally, Cyrus leaves the house. He doesn’t know how he managed to dig himself into an even deeper hole than before, but here he is. And of course, just like he expects, the minute he tells his friends about everything that transpired, they call him out on it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Buffy wonders when Cyrus facetimes her and Andi for emotional support.

Cyrus groans, spinning back and forth in his desk chair. It’s just like pacing, but sitting down.

“I don’t know!” Cyrus admits. “I tried, but you both know me! I am not a person to get involved in any type of conflict. And she just felt so bad, and even roped her son into teaching me as a replacement. And, by the way, he’s a scary, jock looking type, so I’m worried if I don’t show up, he’ll like…beat me up, or something.”

Andi replies, “I think you might be overthinking things. Again.”

“I mean, probably, but also, you weren’t there.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

He sighs, socked feet digging into his carpet. All of his previous ideas have fled out the window after what just transpired. Cyrus is a people pleaser, after all, and now he’ll have to continue to do just that to make up for his lies, even if it means embarrassing himself in front of his classmates.

“I have to at least try to learn the music. There’s no other options.” Cyrus decides. “Maybe it won’t be too bad?”

Buffy visibly winces, sounding entirely unconvinced as she responds, “Maybe?”

Andi readjusts her camera so she’s closer. “Well, I think you can do it, Cyrus.”

“That makes one of us,” Cyrus mutters. “but thank you. For my sake, I sure hope so.”

* * *

The next day, Cyrus receives his sheet music. After one glance, his hope that the music would be easy to learn disintegrates like paper being engulfed by flames. So many notes dance across the pages that it makes Cyrus dizzy. Many of the notes extend off the lines. The chords and rhythms appear much more complex than anything he’s attempted to play. In other words, Cyrus is in big trouble.

He spends the next few days before his lesson trying to fiddle with the pieces his theatre teacher gave him. He can manage to play the first five notes in his right hand before the piece gets too complicated for him. Still, he tries to play it, even though every time he makes a mistake he cringes at the botched sound.

Before he knows it, the day before his lesson comes, and Cyrus is a walking ball of anxiety. It doesn’t help that he’s been staying up so late the past few nights, both from practicing as well as the nerves he has from lying. He just wishes that he could press a magic button to let him master the pieces he needs. If only things in life were that simple.

It’s hopeless, Cyrus figures at some point after practicing until his fingers ache. He knows what’s going to happen in the end, after all. TJ will surely laugh at him for his ineptness at piano, then he’ll never be able to learn his piece which will result in him getting yelled at by his theatre teacher. Then, he’ll never get a chance to direct again, leading to lack of experience for his college applications, and—

Cyrus sucks in a deep breath to calm his spiraling. He knows from having four therapist parents that spiraling is not good for anyone, but that doesn’t prevent it from happening to him. Deciding he’s been practicing enough the last couple of days, Cyrus takes a much-needed break on his phone for the remainder of the night. Even so, Cyrus somehow finds himself scrolling YouTube later, back to watching piano instruction videos.

The next day arrives much too soon. As his friends and everyone at school can surely tell, Cyrus can’t concentrate on anything. He’s more jumpy than usual (which says a lot because he’s always jumpy), but just as talkative. And Cyrus hates how this whole situation is making him feel. He hates the position he’s put himself in. He also hates that he’s making such a big deal out of everything that’s happening. Most people probably wouldn’t be stressing so much that they constantly bite at their fingernails or can’t sleep at night, but Cyrus is. That’s the worst part about this situation, really, is that Cyrus knows he’s overreacting, but he can’t stop.

Seeing the state he’s in, Cyrus’s friends send him reassuring smiles whenever they pass him in the hall or when they glance at each other in class. Cyrus appreciates the support, but he knows that he’ll have to deal with this by himself. Still, having his friends get him muffins during lunch does help cheer him up. Buffy does say something during lunch that makes Cyrus even more nervous for lessons later that day, though.

“Wait, you said the person teaching you today is TJ Kippen, right?!” Buffy questions him suddenly, face darkening.

Cyrus finishes chewing his muffin bite before answering, “Yeah, why?”

“I thought the name sounded familiar, but I didn’t put it together until now.”

“Wait, you know him?”

“I mean, not really, but I know of him,” she explains. “He goes to the other high school just outside of Shadyside. I recognize his name because he’s the captain of the basketball team there.”

“Great,” Cyrus groans, “I guessed he was a jock, but I hate that this confirms my suspicions.”

“That’s not the bad part, Cyrus. I remember one of my teammates used to go to that school. She told me how terrible the boys basketball captain was! And I asked her today if his name was TJ, and she said yes. Apparently, he’s like a bully.”

Cyrus pales. “Could be another TJ?”

Jonah, Buffy, and Marty all stare at him until he sighs and relents.

“Okay, so TJ’s a jock who also happens to be a bully. I’m going to die today.”

Although Cyrus says it in a joking manner, Buffy catches on to the underlying tenseness in his tone. She also sees his leg start bouncing up and down at a more rapid pace. Reaching over, she places a firm hand on his knee.

“I didn’t tell you this to freak you out, Cyrus,” Buffy apologizes. “I just want you to know who you’re really with. I want to protect you. But I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Yeah!” Jonah agrees. “I mean, this is technically a job, right? He’s doing this for his mom, too, so he probably has to be professional even if he hates it.”

Cyrus nods. “I know. Thank you, Buffy, for looking out for me. Hopefully you and Jonah are right about this all working out okay.”

“If it doesn’t, Buffy can always threaten him for you. Everyone is scared of Buffy’s threats, me included,” Marty says.

Buffy smiles contently, resting her head on his shoulder. “As you should be.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Cyrus attends all his classes, but he feels like everything he does is just automated. Even though his body is in school, his mind wanders elsewhere. His fingers drum the notes from some of his piano songs on an invisible keyboard. During each class, his legs are abnormally restless as he shifts positions every minute. Squeaking markers against whiteboards drive Cyrus close to insanity. A headache pulses behind his temples from the constant barrage of stress the past week.

The worst part is that he can’t just go home and sleep this off after school. Instead, he has to go to his stupid piano lesson and get taught his stupid music by stupid TJ which will lead to everyone realizing how stupid Cyrus himself is. At least next week will be back to normal. Maybe Ms. Kippen will be able to help him learn the songs he needs to learn in time. Three weeks is totally enough time to learn how to play piano, right?

Soon, he’s at the Kippen’s doorstep, rocking back and forth on his heels. As always, he overthinks everything. Should he knock or ring the doorbell? Usually, with Ms. Kippen, he just walks right in, but that would be weird with TJ, right? After all, TJ doesn’t even know him except for their very brief and embarrassing interaction. But would TJ be expecting him to come inside like any other student? Before Cyrus can fully think things through, the door in front of him opens. Cyrus jumps, clutching at his pounding heart in surprise. He registers that a muffled squeak came out of his mouth, hoping TJ didn’t heart it. Of course, based on the slight upcurve of TJ’s lips, it seems like he has. Great, already off to a terrible start.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” TJ apologizes, wetting his lips. “You can come in, though.”

Cyrus nods excessively, stepping through the door. “Oh, no…it’s fine! I, uh—just wasn’t sure whether I should come in before. I mean, usually I do, but with you here instead of your mom, I didn’t just want to barge in—I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

TJ, after closing the door, stands in the entry way and looks at him with a cocked head. His previous smile has expanded, the slightest of dimples popping out on his cheeks. Meanwhile, Cyrus suddenly realizes that the two of them are alone. He’s here by himself with no support or getaways with a cute boy. _Why does he have to be so cute yet so intimidating? _Literally everything about TJ screams toward Cyrus’s instincts not to mess with him, but on the other hand, his heart gravitates toward him, roped in by his stunning, green eyes.

“No worries,” TJ says casually, continuing to smile. “So, did you bring the muffins this time?”

“What?”

“The muffins? That you said you baked my mom?”

Cyrus completely forgot about that lie, obviously, as well as the fact that TJ heard it. Scrambling to think of something, Cyrus stutters, “Oh! Drat, completely forgot them again. Actually, I think I might have eaten them.”

TJ brow quirks, and he teases, “You ate the muffins you made her?”

At this point, Cyrus wants to just crawl out a window. He doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know how red his face appears.

“I—” Cyrus stammers.

“Come on, let’s go to the piano and actually start our lesson,” TJ advises with a smirk, not waiting before walking there.

Cyrus follows behind him like a lost puppy, mind still reeling over their interaction. While Cyrus continues to ponder everything that just happened, TJ seems to have already moved on. Cyrus watches as he sets up the piano by opening the top up and putting a stand underneath it as well as uncovering the keys. The bane of Cyrus’s existence.

After realizing that Cyrus isn’t moving, TJ beckons him to sit down on the bench. Cyrus shrinks onto it, already feeling nerves building up. He shrugs his backpack off, dropping it on the other side of him to pull his sheet music out.

“You wanted to quit, right?” TJ mentions out of the blue.

Cyrus immediately drops his entire piano folder, causing his actual pieces as well as the theatre pieces to go fluttering around his feet. He sputters, reaching down to gather them all up in no particular order. TJ, he notices, also kneels to help him collect stray paper.

“Why would you say that?” Cyrus waves off.

TJ’s brow line wrinkles. “Because you’re a terrible liar? It was obvious when you came in, anyway, and saw me instead of my mom. You didn’t want anyone else to witness it.”

“Oh my god, your mom doesn’t know, does she?!”

“Nah, you’re in luck. My mom tends to not question people much. She kinda just goes with the flow, tries not to judge too deep into things. But she will be expecting those muffins.”

“You must think I’m such a jerk,” Cyrus groans, hand swiping across his face.

“Not really. Some people just aren’t made for piano. But why are you still here? I see the callouses on your fingers from playing a lot. I recognize them from myself. You’re still practicing.”

“It’s kind of a long and really embarrassing story.”

“I’ve got time,” he shrugs, looking over at Cyrus with patience.

“I don’t think piano lessons are usually for telling stories, especially ones like this.”

“Then we won’t.”

TJ stands up from his chair placed beside the piano. Confused, Cyrus stays seated until TJ sticks out a hand. Just like he said before, TJ’s callouses match Cyrus’s own, aside from the fact that they’re much more developed from probably a lifetime of piano. Despite the numerous callouses riddling the surface of his hand, his skin looks smooth and soft. Cyrus discretely wipes his sweaty hands against his jeans before clasping their hands together for TJ to help pull him up. Unfortunately, he lets go right afterward.

Cyrus follows TJ into the kitchen, a place in the Kippen household where he’s never been. TJ proceeds to grab a handful of snacks from the cupboards, dropping them all in a pile on the counter. He then leaps up onto the counter in one motion, so he sits on the edge with his legs dangling off.

“Chips?” TJ offers, shaking a bag in front of his face.

Cyrus blinks in surprise. “What?”

“You said you didn’t want to tell your story during lessons, right? So right now, we’re not doing lessons, we’re just chatting in the kitchen. So, chips?”

This time around, Cyrus takes the offered bag with a laugh. He eats a few before passing it back to TJ who’s currently munching on some other packaged item. Never would Cyrus have thought that this intimidating, jock looking boy would be eating chips with him and listening to his ridiculous story.

“What is it?” TJ asks.

Cyrus realizes that he’s been staring at the other boy too long, caught up in thoughts about everything happening. He chuckles, shaking his head. Feeling too short beside TJ, Cyrus boldly climbs up on the counter next to him, somehow managing not to fall flat on his face. Although it definitely doesn’t look as graceful as when TJ did it, he ends up in the same position.

“I just never expected this,” Cyrus admits, “I mean…I figured you’d be all scary and mean and stuff.”

“You thought I’d be scary and mean?!”

“Well kind of! You look like one of those intimidating jock types, and trust me when I say those are not my type of people. I just never expected you to be this…” _Funny, sweet, **handsome. **_“cool.”

“Well, I mean, you got part of it right,” TJ says, “I am a jock, sort of. The basketball captain at my high school.”

“I know. My friend kind of warned me about you. Apparently, someone she knows didn’t get the best impression of you.”

TJ sighs, staring down at his lap. “Yeah. I’m not surprised. At school, I’m not exactly the best person. I guess as the basketball captain, I just feel like there’s a lot of stuff that’s expected of me. Ways to act. At least that’s what my friends say.”

“That’s dumb. You should be who you really are, regardless of what they think.”

“I know. It’s just hard.”

“I know.”

And Cyrus is telling the truth when he agrees with TJ. After all, it took a long time for Cyrus to become comfortable with his sexuality, let alone actually share it with his friends. Of course, they were supportive; he figured they would be. Still, that doesn’t seem to make it any easier. No matter what, showing your true self to others is terrifying. You worry that they won’t accept you for who you really are. Cyrus is fortunate that his friends and family support him fully, but TJ’s friends might not accept his real personality based on what he’s said.

“Well,” Cyrus begins, trying to alleviate some of the growing tension. “I promised you a story, right? You can’t laugh, though, because this is super embarrassing, and I can’t believe I’m even telling you.”

“Okay, I promise,” TJ chuckles.

So Cyrus starts at the beginning. He tells TJ how excited he was for piano lessons, how much he wanted to succeed. He tells him about the lie he told his theatre teacher and how awful he still feels about it. He tells TJ that he practices endlessly but still can’t make any progress, and how he feels like a failure. Finally, he tells TJ about the mess he got himself into with theatre, and how he isn’t sure what he’ll do next.

He has to give TJ credit for paying attention the entire time. As an avid storyteller, Cyrus tends to go into way too much detail on simple stories, with numerous tangents, as well. The entire time, though, TJ shows obvious signs that he’s listening, such as nodding in appropriate spots. By the time Cyrus finishes his story, the time for their lesson is almost up. TJ doesn’t seem concerned, though.

“So yeah, that’s about it,” Cyrus finishes off, reaching for the chips again as a comfort object.

TJ seems to be processing the information just thrown at him, as the only word he can come up with in response is, “Wow.”

“I know. It sounds even more crazy and stupid when I say it out loud, too.”

Tilting his head, TJ pauses to consider something. Cyrus fixates on the strand of hair that has come loose from its place, flopping down against TJ’s forehead. He wonders what it would look like if all of TJ’s hair was free like that. He can’t think about it for too long, though, as TJ suddenly gets a determined expression and hops down from the counter.

“Well? What are we waiting for?” TJ asks. “Let’s get practicing!”

Cyrus hesitates. “Uh, are you sure? I don’t know if you’ve heard me play before, but I’m pretty sure I’m unteachable.”

“Do you have any other options?”

_Definitely not, _Cyrus thinks to himself. With a sigh of defeat, he hops off the counter, as well, dusting chip crumbs from his shirt with a blush. They head back toward the piano sitting in the living room just waiting to be played.

Cyrus arranges the sheet music that he was given by his theatre teacher. Although he’s used to the gaze of Ms. Kippen on him while he practices, the idea that TJ is scrutinizing his every move instead makes Cyrus twice as nervous. Hands shaking ever so slightly, Cyrus positions his hands in what he hopes is the correct way.

“Whenever you’re ready,” TJ encourages.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees TJ reach for a case on the desk behind them. He pulls out a pair of rounded glasses and pushes them up to the bridge of his nose. Cyrus had a difficult enough time concentrating before, but now his brain has turned to mush at the sight. Glasses definitely suit his facial features, accentuating his green eyes and bringing out his sharp jaw line. Not to mention, with the glasses on, he looks much less intimidating. He looks more like the TJ that Cyrus got to know in the kitchen.

Finally, with his pulse pounding in his ears, Cyrus begins. As always, a false sense of security becomes his downfall. Just as he starts getting further along into the piece, his confidence plummets as he fears when this streak will be broken by a mistake. Of course, the minute he begins thinking about this, he starts fumbling more, so much that he can’t recover. He only makes it through the first two measures before having to stop.

“Ugh!” he cries out with frustration. “I told you I’m awful!”

“Woah, hey,” TJ shushes, placing a consoling hand on his arm. “It’s alright.”

Cyrus doesn’t comprehend why TJ’s being so nurturing toward him until he realizes the wetness on his cheeks. Great, not only did he embarrass himself in front of TJ by his awful piano playing skills, but also from literally crying about it. He swipes away his tears as if they burned his face.

Sniffling, Cyrus apologizes, “Oh my god, I’m such a baby. I’m so sorry! You probably think I’m super pathetic now. I should just go.”

Cyrus goes to stand up, but a hand wrapping around his wrist prevents him from going any further.

“Wait, Cyrus. I don’t think you’re pathetic, okay? We all have things that don’t come natural to us. I…I actually have a learning disability with math, so I know from experience how frustrating it can all be. But I think I can help you.”

“R-Really? You want to help me?” Cyrus stutters, eyes moving up from their position locked on the floor to meet TJ’s gaze.

TJ nods with a smile. “I do.”

“But what about your mom? She comes back soon, and I don’t really want her to find out about all of this.”

“Don’t worry, our lessons will be extras. We can do them when she’s not here.”

“We could do them at my house, too,” Cyrus blurts out, unsure of where this sudden boldness is coming from. “I mean, my parents have a grand piano to practice on in the basement, if you want.”

“Yeah,” TJ agrees, “That would be great. Um…do you want to come over tomorrow after school again? My mom will still be gone. I just think today has been enough, right?”

“Definitely,” Cyrus agrees, still feeling the congestion in his nose. “And seriously, thank you again. I know that you don’t have to help me, but you still are.”

“I _want _to. I want to help you succeed, Cyrus. I just—don’t tell anyone about this, but…I really struggled with my learning disability for a long time without getting any help. I know that this isn’t exactly the same thing, but since I know what it’s like, I don’t want other people have to go through that.”

“You’re just full of surprises, TJ Kippen. But I have one more question: you said that you struggle at school with showing your real self, so why did you open up to me?”

TJ has the _audacity _to blush. His cheeks are lit up fully, turned a shade of pink that Cyrus never would have expected to see. That paired with his askew piece of hair as well as his dark glasses makes Cyrus want to keel over at the sight.

“I don’t know, I guess you’re just easy to open up to,” TJ stammers out.

Cyrus smiles. “You are, too.”

* * *

“You’re alive!” Buffy gasps the next day at school. “When you didn’t answer any of your texts, I thought maybe TJ killed you.”

“What?” Cyrus laughs. “He may not have the best reputation, but murder? I’m fine, Buffy.”

“Fine? That’s all you’re going to say?! What happened? Was it awful? Was he awful?”

Cyrus gathers his books from inside his locker and drops them into his backpack. “Actually, I think it went well. He’s going to give me extra lessons.”

“Wait—extra lessons? I am so confused.”

“It turns out that he isn’t so bad,” Cyrus explains vaguely. “He’s actually kind of sweet.”

Buffy, always knowing what’s going on in Cyrus’s head, eyes him with growing suspicion. Cyrus quickly turns away, ducking his head in toward his locker to try and hide his blush. However, he’s too slow, and Buffy latches onto it.

“Do you like TJ Kippen?!” She hisses.

“What? No!” Cyrus defends, but his burning blush does nothing to help his case. “I mean…maybe?”

“Cyrus!”

“I know, okay? But he’s actually really nice and helpful and has these green eyes that you can get lost in—”

Buffy sighs, closing Cyrus’s locker for him. “I may not trust him, but I trust you. Just be careful, okay? I worry.”

“I promise I’m being careful,” Cyrus repeats.

Is he being careful, or is he letting his emotions take over like usual? Although Cyrus would like to think of himself as a rational person, he also knows that he can get overwhelmed by his emotions or read too much into things sometimes. What if this is one of those times? But TJ seems so nice and much different than the person Buffy described. Not to mention, TJ opened up to him about a lot of personal stuff. That means he must at least like him, right? Cyrus understands where Buffy is coming from, though; he doesn’t want to get his heart broken by pining over a straight jock again. He should try to reign in his feelings a bit, because there’s no way TJ would ever like someone like him as more than a friend.

These piano lessons will be strictly business and nothing more. Surely that’s what TJ wants, anyway. Once TJ can teach him enough for his play, it will be done with. Maybe they’ll still talk occasionally, but there will be no constant pining on Cyrus’s part. He can’t get in that deep.

As much as Cyrus loves Buffy and her protective nature, he seeks to get Andi’s opinion on the matter, as well. Not only will she hopefully give him good advice, but it gives Cyrus an excuse to talk to her. After choosing to attend SAVA, they haven’t seen each other nearly as much as before. Although Cyrus is happy for her, he also misses her like crazy, hence calling her during lunch in the corner of the library.

“Cyrus?” She questions when she picks up, not expecting him to call, especially during school hours at risk of getting caught.

“Hi,” He greets. “I really need some advice. I like TJ Kippen.”

“Woah, okay. Can we unpack that a bit more?”

So Cyrus tells her everything that occurred at his house the other day starting with him first walking in the door. Although Andi loves to talk herself, she’s also a fantastic listener, not interrupting Cyrus once as he rambles.

“And that’s about it,” Cyrus finishes. “I just want to learn piano. I don’t want this to turn into another Jonah Beck situation, Andi. Plus, Buffy warned me about him, and I don’t know…maybe she’s right? Maybe I need to keep my feelings out of this.”

Andi replies, “Listen, Buffy and I are both always going to be protective of you, but I don’t think bottling up your feelings like this is healthy. I’d know. Besides, you never know what may come of it?”

“Yeah right,” Cyrus snorts. “Even if TJ happened to like guys, he wouldn’t like me. I don’t want to have my heart broken again.”

“I know, but you also can’t live your life in fear that you’ll get rejected constantly. Just…keep an open mind? And keep your guard up. Wow, those are two very conflicting things I just said.”

“No, I get it. Thank you for always being there for me, even when you’re not _actually_ here.”

Chuckling, she responds, “You’re welcome. I should go, though, before I get caught on my phone.”

“Me too. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later, Cyrus!”

Both Andi and Buffy’s advice makes sense, and he’s grateful to have them to help him out. They’ve certainly put him on the right track, now, but the rest of it is up to him. No matter how many plans he has in place, he can’t determine the right one to pursue until he’s with TJ. Until then, it’s a guessing game. For now, he’ll put his guard up and leave it up to TJ to be able to break it down.

Just as planned, he meets TJ right after school ends. This time, Cyrus doesn’t even have to knock, as the front door is already propped open. Through the open door, he hears an unfamiliar melody echoing outside before being carried away by the wind. He lingers by the door to listen.

The music washes over him like a tidal wave, cool and refreshing. Just like water against the shoreline, the dynamics ebb and flow smoothly. The constant, lulling rhythm draws Cyrus in, melody crystal clear against the chords of the other hand. Cyrus has heard nothing like this song before, and he’s listened to his fair share of classical music for research purposes. He feels the emotions radiating through the notes, so many complex feelings being expressed through a simple melodic tone.

Cyrus silently pokes his head in the door, just able to spot TJ sitting at the piano, eyes fluttered shut and mouth open slightly in concentration. Mesmerized, Cyrus tiptoes through the doorway, kicking off his shoes so they don’t creak against the floor. At the new angle, Cyrus notices light filtering in through the blinds, casting rays across TJ’s face and hands. His skin glows, and his hair shines. As Cyrus edges closer, he can see TJ’s fingers gliding across the keys effortlessly. His hands move quick with precision, hitting all the notes he intends to hit.

Cyrus expected TJ to know how to play piano decently well since his mother deemed him qualified enough to teach Cyrus, but he never expected TJ to be this talented. The boy seems so invested in every note of his music. He appears more at ease than Cyrus has ever seen him before. Although Cyrus has gained a steady hatred of listening to piano music after his disastrous playing, he knows he could listen to TJ play for hours on end.

Of course, just as luck would have it, TJ finishes up his song just as Cyrus gets in the perfect viewing position. His fingers slow to a soft stop, holding out the last few notes until the fade away. Then, at last, his eyes open. Cyrus must not have been as quiet as he thought, for TJ doesn’t act surprised to seem him standing beside the piano.

“TJ…t-that was beautiful,” Cyrus compliments. “Who is it by?”

“Actually, I wrote it,” TJ admits. “It’s kind of a work in progress still.”

“I think it sounds perfect.”

TJ clears his throat, fingers tapping quickly against his leg. “I, uh, thank you.”

“Will you play something else for me?”

“Now you’re just trying to delay your own lesson,” TJ catches on.

Cyrus chuckles. Although that may be partially true, he really does want to hear TJ play another piece. He wants to watch him fully enthralled with his piece again, fingers dancing and shoulders swaying along to the music. But, as TJ says, he does need to get learning if he ever wants to even have a chance of playing his pieces in the play.

“Fine,” Cyrus groans, “Lesson time. But you have to promise you’ll play for me again sometime.”

TJ rolls his eyes, smile growing on his face. “I promise.”

With that, he stands up to trade places with Cyrus. As Cyrus sits down, he mentally apologizes ahead of time to the piano as well as the people who will hear him playing as they pass by outside. Cyrus goes to put his sheet music up and get his hands in position, but before he can finish, TJ interrupts him.

“I want you to tell me something first,” TJ states. “Tell me what goes through your mind as you play.”

“Uh,” Cyrus trails off nervously. “I think, where is that note? Where is the next note? Where is the next—”

“Besides that, I mean. When you start really getting into the music, what do you think about?”

Cyrus has no idea where this is going, but he answers anyway. “Well, if I somehow managed to get far into the music, I’d probably be focusing on not messing up. Try to get everything to sound correct.”

This answer seems to please TJ for some reason. Cyrus frowns at his expression, confused by what’s going on.

“I think I know what you’re doing wrong,” TJ explains. “I think I can get you to play better.”

Now Cyrus is really confused. “Wait, what? What am I doing wrong? I swear I’ve studied up on everything—”

TJ shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. You’re just not letting yourself make mistakes.”

“Of course not! You aren’t supposed to make mistakes, TJ.”

“Well in the end, no, but right now you’re too focused on being perfect that whenever you aren’t perfect, you mess up. You put too much pressure on yourself to get it right! You just need to not let yourself get freaked out if you mess up. The best thing to do if you mess up is just keep going. Mistakes are necessary to be successful.”

“I can never get back on track, though.”

TJ responds, “I know it sounds counterproductive, but trust me, worrying too much about messing up will make you mess up. If you just let your mistakes go, you can keep playing.”

“That is definitely not my personality,” Cyrus tells him.

Laughing, TJ agrees, “I can tell. But you also seem really smart, and you can learn. It’s not easy to untrain yourself, but it is possible. Do you want to try it?”

“I guess so.”

The entire lesson they practice this. Letting himself mess up is a lot harder than Cyrus thought it would be. It feels wrong to be okay with these mistakes and let himself continue. The first few times, he had to stop just like before after getting too discouraged. TJ remains patient throughout all of this, though, simply urging him to try again.

It isn’t until Cyrus starts getting more tired that he’s able to relatively succeed at his task. He’s going through the new piece yet again, and he fumbles on a note but feels too lazy to fix it, so he just skips right over it and keeps going without even realizing it until a few seconds later.

“Woah!” Cyrus gasps, suddenly ceasing his playing. “I did it! I kept going even though I messed up.”

TJ grins at him. “You did! And how did it feel?”

“Actually, it felt good,” Cyrus admits. “It feels good not being perfect all the time.”

It’s just a small step in the right direction, but Cyrus feels proud of himself. TJ also looks proud, congratulating Cyrus with a pat on the back. It feels strange to be proud of making a mistake, but it also relieves some of the pressure weighing Cyrus down. Not to mention, seeing TJ beam at him like that gives Cyrus the hope and energy to do it again.

The lessons continue almost every other day. Most days, they do it at TJ’s house, but sometimes they have to do it over at Cyrus’s house. Soon, seeing TJ becomes a regular thing, but Cyrus still can’t get used to looking at the gorgeous blonde constantly. And now, Cyrus actually starts looking forward to his piano lessons with TJ. He still goes to Ms. Kippen’s lessons, too, with a much more positive outlook on things. It seems as if TJ brings out the best in him, for some reason.

Slowly but surely, Cyrus’s playing gets better, too. As it turns out, TJ was completely correct when it comes to letting him make mistakes. Not only does it make Cyrus less stressed over all, but it also helps improve his accuracy overall. TJ is also a really great teacher in general. He knows just the right way to help Cyrus improve his knowledge of piano and theory. The way TJ explains it makes perfect sense, although it wasn’t like that at first. Cyrus remembers back to their second lesson together, when TJ tried to explain something to him using a basketball metaphor.

“So, I think the best way to understand this concept is by using basketball as a metaphor. So you know how basketball has the different types of shots—layups, dunks, jump shots, etcetera?”

Cyrus bursts out laughing, “TJ, do you really think I look like the type of person who would understand anything you just said? I hardly even understand how you score points, let alone different types of shots. I didn’t even know there were different shots…I thought you just threw it.”

“Just throw it?” TJ gasps in fake offense. “Basketball is _an art_, Cyrus.”

Shrugging, Cyrus retorts, “Just looks like a bunch of chaos to me.”

At that point, TJ attacks Cyrus’s head with his knuckle, rubbing it around and messing up Cyrus’s styled hair. The entire time, Cyrus giggles uncontrollably at his antics as TJ teasingly orders him to “Take it back!” He apologizes until TJ finally releases him. Both grin wildly at each other, Cyrus’s hair sticking up all over the place as they catch their breaths.

As it turns out, the crush that Cyrus had tried to repress just grew more and more out of control from that point forward. He’s getting in too deep, just like he said he didn’t want to. But there’s just something so alluring about TJ Kippen, something that draws Cyrus in. He’s never met someone that he clicks with so much instantly, as if they were meant to be friends for their entire lives. And Cyrus knows that the harder he falls, the worse it will be later on, but that doesn’t stop his heart from pounding and his hands from sweating every time he’s near TJ. That doesn’t stop the incessant butterflies rising in his stomach whenever he catches the other boy’s glance out of the corner of his eye while Cyrus plays.

The musical is approaching fast. He’s been taking extra lessons with TJ for three weeks now, and the musical’s opening night is in less than one. Somehow, Cyrus has managed to stave off the theatre teacher into practicing with the orchestra, but he knows he won’t be able to for much longer. Although Cyrus definitely is improving faster than ever, he also worries that he won’t learn all his music in time for the show, or that he’ll freeze up when it comes time for the actual performance.

“I think my theatre teacher wants me to play with the orchestra tomorrow for rehearsal,” Cyrus mentions to TJ at their lesson that day.

This time, they’re doing lessons at Cyrus’s house. Cyrus loves that TJ has become so familiar with his house that he now knows his way around relatively well. He imagines what it would be like to have TJ over here more often during times when they weren’t doing lessons, but he pushes these images back down as to not get his hopes too high.

“You’re going to do great,” TJ promises. “You are doing great already.”

“Thank you, but this is different. I’ll be playing along with others at some parts, and the entire crowd will hear me!”

Noticing Cyrus’s nerves starting to get the better of him, TJ reaches forward, gently resting his hand on top of Cyrus’s own. Cyrus glances up at him in surprise, seeing the dust of pink coating TJ’s face. Cyrus doesn’t dare move a muscle; instead, he just concentrates on the feeling of TJ’s larger hand resting on his own.

“Do you want to go over that tricky spot again?” TJ whispers.

Cyrus swallows heavily. “Yeah. Show me?”

Ever so carefully, TJ lifts Cyrus’s hand to put it in the correct position against the keys. Then, once Cyrus’s hand is situated, he drapes his hand over the top, pressing Cyrus’s fingers down in the correct order. Cyrus holds his breath, unable to concentrate on the music whatsoever. The only thing he registers is the warm of TJ’s hand, press of his slender fingers, and the soft breathing against his neck.

“You got it?” TJ asks, making Cyrus realize that they just went through the entire measure and he missed it.

Cyrus doesn’t want this moment to be over, so he replies, “Show me again?”

TJ happily obliges.

* * *

At the next lesson, Cyrus arrives with tears in his eyes.

“Cyrus, what happened?” TJ immediately asks with concern, striding over to his side at a quick pace.

Sniffling, Cyrus yanks him into a strong hug. It takes TJ by surprise, but after gaining his bearings he reciprocates with just as much strength. Then, Cyrus starts laughing into TJ’s shoulder, arms clutched around his neck.

“I did it,” Cyrus sniffles. “I played with the orchestra, and my theatre teacher was so impressed! And it’s all thanks to you, TJ. Thank you so much.”

TJ pulls back to look at him with pride. “Cyrus! That’s amazing! But you have to realize that this was all you. I may have helped, but this is _your _accomplishment. And this calls for celebration.”

“But what about lessons?!”

“I think you deserve a break,” TJ smirks. “Besides, I may have something in mind…”

Cyrus bounces up and down, “Wait, what is it?”

TJ shakes his head, running a finger over his mouth to signify a zipper. Cyrus whines, tugging against TJ’s shirt.

“The suspense is literally killing me.”

“Well then, we better hurry, because it’s a bit of a walk.”

Walking with TJ, Cyrus decides, is a reward in and of itself. The cool spring temperatures are just enough to cause TJ to pull on a dark red beanie which looks particularly good on him. Cotton drifts around them as they walk, acting like snow without the bitter cold. Buds on trees and flowers have started to peak out. On the distant mountains, remnants of snow cover the top. Despite the stunning view around him, though, TJ is the only thing he can focus on.

It doesn’t help that TJ is walking so close to him that their hands are inches away from touching. Their shoulders nudge up against each other, and every time TJ swings his arm, Cyrus gets an overwhelming urge to reach for his hand and interlock it with his own. And it’s weird because the sidewalks are pretty wide, at least wide enough for them to walk a bit further apart from each other so they don’t touch, but neither of them move over to the edges.

Does this mean something? Could this mean something? Why else would TJ be walking this close to him?

The entire walk, Cyrus attempts to work up the courage to grasp TJ’s hand, but just as he’s about to reach for it, TJ stops in his tracks. Cyrus snatches his hand back before TJ notices. Apparently, the long walk wasn’t so long, at least not with TJ there to keep him company.

“The museum?!” Cyrus gasps as he looks at the familiar building. “How’d you know I love the museum?”

TJ smiles, “I mean, your backpack has a lot of pins on it related to history and dinosaurs, so I made an educated guess. Plus, they have a new exhibit out—”

“The extinct sea creatures exhibit!” Cyrus finishes with elation. “I’ve been wanting to go forever, but didn’t have anyone to come with. This is amazing, TJ.”

“You earned it. Now, ready to check out some sea creatures?”

Spending the afternoon at the museum with TJ is like a dream. Spending time at one of his favorite places with one of his favorite people. Even as he goes on long rants about various facts for all the exhibits, TJ doesn’t appear bored. In fact, he actively asks Cyrus questions about the subjects. He seems completely engaged in what Cyrus talks about, no matter how boring it may seem to other people. Even Andi, Buffy, and Jonah eventually get bored hearing Cyrus constantly ramble about random topics, and he can’t really blame them. But it’s a nice change of pace to have someone always listening to him.

Sometime during their exploration of the museum, Cyrus feels a hand nudging at his own. Before he can comprehend what’s happening, TJ slots his fingers between Cyrus’s. Cyrus halts in his rambling, unable to form any comprehensive words for a good few seconds. TJ’s hand feels exactly how he hoped, better even. Cyrus’s small hand intertwines perfectly with TJ’s own, as if it were always meant to be.

“What were you saying about blue whales?” TJ asks, urging him to continue his previous spiel.

Cyrus gapes, trying to remember what he was even talking about. His mind went blank right when TJ took his hand. Taking his lack of speaking as rejection, TJ goes to pull away, but Cyrus clutches even tighter in response.

“Well,” Cyrus stammers, blush evident on his cheeks, “Blue whales actually have hearts about the size and weight of a compact car…”

For the rest of the afternoon, TJ doesn’t let go of Cyrus’s hand.

* * *

“I can’t believe how much progress you’ve made, Cyrus! I am very impressed,” Ms. Kippen praises.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Kippen,” he smiles.

It’s his final official lesson before the opening night of his directorial debut. Not only has he been working hard at perfecting his piano skills, but he’s also been making every move, song, and line in the play work in synchrony. Piano has caused him lots of stress, for sure, but directing is also no walk in the park. The worries about looking over so many aspects of the show definitely made Cyrus freak out more than once. Still, with his theatre teacher’s help, he was able to direct what he hopes will be a successful show.

With TJ’s extra lessons along with his official lessons with Ms. Kippen, Cyrus feels like he’s a decent piano player at least. He can’t believe how far he’s come in the past couple of weeks. Everything seems like it’s finally headed in the right direction. Now, he’s only missing one thing. TJ.

They didn’t talk about the day they held hands at the museum. They didn’t talk about what it meant for them or their relationship, and it’s been driving Cyrus crazy. He knows TJ has a reputation at his school and worries that TJ won’t want to ruin that reputation by dating Cyrus. Besides, TJ is a tall, handsome, basketball captain. Surely, he could get anyone he wanted to date him, so why would he choose Cyrus? TJ hasn’t been avoiding him by any means. They’ve been together more than ever to prepare for the show, but there’s this underlying tension between them that Cyrus doesn’t know how to fix. He’s been trying to bring it up for the past few days, but every time he tries, TJ either avoids the topic or something else interrupts them.

“I heard from TJ that you’re directing a play!” Ms. Kippen mentions all of the sudden. “That’s so exciting!”

_TJ talks about him. _

“Yeah,” Cyrus beams. “It’s actually tomorrow night! I’m really excited but nervous.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great!”

Cyrus smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He wonders if TJ will even come to his play tomorrow night. Cyrus definitely didn’t ask him to, but it would be nice if he did. After all, Cyrus wants to show TJ not only the piano side of him, but the directorial side. He knows TJ isn’t obligated to come, so he feels weird about asking him if he’s planning on it. Plus, with this weird limbo they’ve been in, Cyrus doesn’t even know where they stand.

He doesn’t spot TJ at all during his lesson, causing his mood to drop slightly. Sometimes, TJ will pop in with a sweet smile and short wave, but today he’s absent. Cyrus tries not to read too much into it, but he worries that TJ’s mad at him or changed his mind about their ‘relationship’, if you could even call it that.

“One more thing before you go, Cyrus,” Ms. Kippen says right as Cyrus packs up his stuff. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m glad you and TJ are friends. He speaks very highly of you.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. Also, I still haven’t forgotten about those muffins,” Ms. Kippen winks.

Cyrus laughs to himself. Ms. Kippen knows a lot more than she lets on. He knows where TJ gets his perceptive skills from. In fact, the mother and son seem to be similar in numerous ways that Cyrus has picked up on in the past few weeks. They both have charming, easy going personalities, a great sense of humor, and an amazing talent to share.

Waving goodbye, Cyrus leaves their house with a heavy heart. For some reason, it feels like the end of something. The end of lessons? Probably not, as Cyrus has come to enjoy them quite a bit, but certainly the end of something. Hopefully, it isn’t the end of his and TJ’s friendship. It’s only been two days, but Cyrus already misses him.

As much as he wants to daydream about TJ, he also needs to prepare for this show, the show he’s been waiting his whole life for.

Hopefully, TJ will be there to see it.

* * *

“Five minutes, everyone!” Cyrus calls out.

Backstage, the cast fumbles around for last minute touch ups. It feels like complete chaos back there. Cyrus is trying to get everyone finished up and ready to go on stage, but one person has an issue with their costume and another with the lighting. He feels as if he’s been scrambling around the entire night. Already, his feet ache from standing and hurrying back and forth.

In a spare moment, Cyrus peeks out behind the red curtain at the audience. He spots Buffy, Andi, Jonah, and Marty all in the front row talking with each other. Automatically, he scans the crowd for TJ, but comes up with nothing. A hand drops on his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

“Cyrus, dear, are you alright?” Mrs. Alder questions with pursed lips.

Nodding, Cyrus offers up a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine, Mrs. Alder. Excited!”

“You’ve accomplished a lot this month,” Mrs. Alder smiles. “You deserve this success.”

“Thanks.”

It just doesn’t quite feel like a true success without TJ.

Still, this show is about more than Cyrus, this is about everyone. It’s about the cast and crew that have worked tirelessly to get here. Maybe things between him and TJ weren’t meant to be. At least his play worked out in the end. It will save him one less embarrassment.

The show begins. Cyrus’s piano parts aren’t until a few scenes in, so until then he watches the play from backstage with rapt attention. He grins as the crew transitions smoothly from scene to scene, and as the actors hit their marks dead on. Sure, there are mistakes, but as someone once told him, mistakes are necessary to be successful.

Confident that everyone will continue to do amazing, Cyrus prepares for his piano part. As he sets up his sheet music, he can feel himself shaking. One of the violin players casts him a welcoming smile. A month ago, Cyrus would have never expected to come this far in piano, but now he’s sitting in the pit to preform with the orchestra. As he waits for his intro, he thinks of TJ. He thinks of TJ’s crooked smile, vibrant eyes gleaming behind rounded glasses as he laughs. He thinks of TJ’s hands gliding across the keys with confidence and tangible happiness. He thinks of TJ’s patience with him, guiding him in piano. He thinks of TJ’s hand intertwined with his own as they meander about the museum.

Then, he plays.

Music flows freer from him than it ever has before. He continues thinking of TJ as he plays, lips curling into a smile. His hands move into their positions with practiced ease. He makes a mistake, but TJ’s training kicks in, and Cyrus moves right past it. Now that he’s past the anxiety of perfectionism, piano is really enjoyable. He can _make real music. _To Cyrus, it feels like a pretty major accomplishment. Maybe him and Jonah could even form a band! _Wait, no, that’s a terrible idea. Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Cyrus. _

When the show ends, Cyrus feels incredible. When Mrs. Alder brings him on stage to bow, he’s amazed by the audience’s reciprocation. His friends, of course, are the loudest, hooting and hollering as loud as possible. He laughs giddily, waving at them with both hands. The audience is too dark to make out anyone behind the first three rows, but that doesn’t stop Cyrus from trying to search for the familiar head of blonde hair. He doesn’t see it.

After they finish bowing and go backstage again, Cyrus gets tackled by Andi and Buffy.

“Cyrus! That was amazing!” Andi compliments.

Buffy exclaims, “You rocked the directing and the piano playing!”

All four of them bring Cyrus into a group hug with him in the center. He feels so loved and thankful for all his friends. Still, he hates that he can’t properly enjoy it without thinking about TJ. Buffy and Andi send each other matching looks after noticing Cyrus’s faltering expression.

“Are you okay?” Buffy whispers.

He swallows back tears, swiping at the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, fine. I just thought maybe, for once, someone liked me back.”

“Cy,” Andi frowns, pulling him into another hug. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t like you back. You’re like, the best person I know.”

“It’s true!” Jonah agrees.

“Yeah, and he doesn’t deserve you if—” Buffy starts, but cuts off.

Still in Andi’s arms, Cyrus feels her tense around him. He sniffles into her shoulder, pulling back with confusion.

Andi directs her gaze behind Cyrus, eyes widening as she asks, “Is that TJ?”

They all turn their heads at once. Sure enough, TJ stands there in a fancy button up shirt holding an abnormally large flower arrangement. Cyrus gapes at him, legs locked until Buffy nudges him forward. TJ starts walking toward him until they’re right across from each other.

“You came,” Cyrus breathes in relief.

TJ smiles bashfully. “Of course I came. And I, uh, got these for you.”

He practically shoves the bouquet of flowers into Cyrus’s arms. Cyrus accepts them gratefully, pushing his nose in them to smell the sweet, rosy scent. TJ giggles at him, causing Cyrus to move his nose away.

“What?” he asks.

TJ continues to grin. “Nothing, you just looked really cute like that.”

Behind him, Buffy and Andi squeal.

“Oh,” Cyrus squeaks, hiding his face in his hands. “You—you look really cute, too.”

TJ turns his head sideways, flustered. “Thanks. You were…you did really great, Cyrus. The play was fantastic, and your playing? Amazing.”

“Really?”

They begin stepping closer to each other. The flowers in Cyrus’s grip brush against TJ’s chest. The world around them shrinks to encapsulate only the two of them. TJ reaches one hand out, brushing a stray flower petal from Cyrus’s cheek, but leaves his hand there afterward. Cyrus reaches up toward TJ as best he can, having to raise on his tiptoes to meet the other boy’s height. As he wraps an arm around TJ’s shoulders, TJ’s other hand moves down to steady him at his waist.

“Really,” TJ murmurs, faces now inches apart.

Cyrus licks his lips before parting them as TJ stares, brushing his thumb delicately along Cyrus’s cheekbone. Their eyes flutter shut. Then, _finally, _they press their foreheads together and kiss. If Cyrus thought their hands fit perfectly, then their lips were meant to be slotted together even more. All the stress from the night fades from his body as they kiss. Heat spreads from his head to his toes.

When they separate, Cyrus hears cheering behind them, but all he concentrates on is TJ, the boy currently looking down at him with puckered, red lips.

“You have no clue how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” TJ whispers.

Cyrus shakes his head. “I think have some idea.”

They kiss again, and Cyrus decides he never wants to let go of TJ. All in all, it turns out to be one of the best nights of his life.

* * *

_2 months later:_

It’s a late night after TJ’s basketball game. The two of them had just finished up hanging out at The Spoon with all their friends, consisting of many of the basketball players as well as all of Cyrus’s friends who have now also become TJ’s friends. After all, they needed to be on good terms with Cyrus’s new boyfriend, anyway.

Cyrus and TJ are just getting back to TJ’s house for the night since Cyrus’s parents are out of town, and Cyrus hates staying alone. They stumble back into his house around 10:00. TJ’s mother is in the kitchen cleaning up, but otherwise the house is dark and quiet.

Giggling, they collapse on the couch together. Cyrus buries his face into his boyfriend’s chest, and TJ automatically tugs Cyrus in closer. A happy sigh leaves TJ’s lips. He leans forward to press a kiss to Cyrus’s head protectively.

“I can’t believe I got so lucky,” TJ comments out of nowhere.

“You? What about me?” Cyrus wonders. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“I still can’t believe we first met because of how bad you sucked at piano.”

Cyrus smacks his arm playfully and rolls eyes. “You’re the worst! Also, you still owe me a song, you know.”

“A song?”

“Yeah. You promised me you’d play for me again,” Cyrus says with a pout.

“Oh, did I?”

“Yes! I miss hearing you play. Come on, play something for me!”

TJ pretends to be annoyed, pushing his nose into Cyrus’s hair with a huff. Cyrus squirms in his grip, tangling their feet together. TJ closes his eyes and fakes being asleep, but Cyrus moves his head, startling him. Cyrus meets his eyes, knowing how hard of a time TJ has resisting his gaze.

“Do you really want to hear me play?” TJ wonders quietly, almost insecurely.

Cyrus frowns, sitting up fully. He reaches for TJ’s hands and squeezes them in comfort. TJ shifts his eyes around, pointedly not looking at Cyrus. He also seems to curl in on himself, legs shifting to tuck up on the couch cushions.

“Yes, of course I want you to play,” Cyrus answers, rubbing his hands. “What’s the matter, babe?”

“I don’t know…” TJ trails off. “I just, you haven’t heard me play in so long. _I_ haven’t played in so long. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Hey,” Cyrus reaches a finger up under TJ’s chin to tilt his head up. “You could **never **disappoint me. I love you.”

It’s the first time Cyrus has officially said those words. Of course, he’s thought them many times, but saying them out loud is a whole different experience. It’s scary, putting himself out there like that. Although he’s gotten used to showing vulnerabilities with TJ, confessions of love can end in disaster. But if Cyrus is certain of anything in his life right now, he’s certain that he loves TJ Kippen with all his heart.

Taken aback by his statement, it takes TJ a second to respond. When he does, though, he responds by bringing Cyrus in for a passionate kiss, clinging to his shirt like a lifeline. Cyrus melts, hand tangling in TJ’s messy hair.

“I love you, too,” TJ giggles. “I love you so much. And I do want to play you a song, actually. I have for a while, but I’ve been too afraid.”

“Are you sure?” Cyrus confirms.

“Positive.”

They make their way over to the piano, hands linked. When TJ sits down on the creaky bench, he motions for Cyrus to sit beside him. He obliges, causing them to be so squished together that their legs up to their shoulders press against one another. TJ sucks in a deep breath before he begins.

The tune reminds Cyrus of the song he first heard TJ play, but this song is more joyful. The previous melancholic tones change into an outburst of happiness. A smiles flits on TJ’s lips as he plays, one foot pedaling and the other tapping along to the music. Everything flows together in harmony, chords big and bold. As the piece reaches its climax, it gets even grander before falling back to the slow, peaceful pace at the beginning.

As Cyrus listens, completely captivated by the music, he drops his head against TJ’s shoulder softly, hoping it doesn’t disturb him. TJ simply smiles and continues playing. Cyrus is enamored by the way TJ’s hands are able to bend and twist across the keys, something Cyrus knows he’ll never achieve, at least not as well as TJ does it. He can’t believe how talented and special his boyfriend is.

The song comes to a close on a single chord, simple yet beautiful, just like TJ.

“Gorgeous,” Cyrus praises, kissing his cheek. “How could you think I wouldn’t like that? Honestly, TJ, that’s one of the most stunning pieces I’ve never heard. How can you write something like this?!”

TJ blushes. “It’s easy when you’re here to inspire me.”

“Play another song?”

As TJ starts into yet another original piece, Ms. Kippen leans against the doorframe, watching them together, a proud glint in her eyes. _They’re really made for each other._


End file.
